


withdrawal

by besully (Briar_Elwood)



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, Drug Withdrawal, Financial Issues, Hospitalization, M/M, Past Character Death, Prescription Drug Abuse, Serious Injuries, Unconsciousness, Vomiting, Whump, death ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-02 01:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13307130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Briar_Elwood/pseuds/besully
Summary: “Fuck you! Where is it?”“John, listen to me--”“Fuck you! Where is it?”“I fucking flushed it, all right?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This does not end happily.

“Fuck you! Where is it?”

“John, listen to me--”

“Fuck you! Where is it?” John barks, pushing James hard in the chest. James stumbles slightly but recovers.

“I fucking flushed it, all right?” James snaps. “Can’t you see it’s killing you?”

John feels lightheaded all of a sudden, and he has to steady himself with the wall so he doesn’t tumble. James notices and reaches out, but John shoves him away.

“You flushed it?” John breathes, vision swimming. He needs his fix, he needs it right now. “You realize how much money that was?”

“Money that should’ve been spent on other things,” James argues. “Like rent or a new prosthetic or fucking food. When was the last time you had a real meal?”

“It d--it doesn’t matter,” John says, shaking his head dismissively. “I need to get more.”

James’s hands are hard on his shoulders. “John, please--”

“Fuck off!” John bursts, shaking James off. “I thought you cared--”

“I  _ do _ care, that’s why I’m doing this--”

“You know what it’s like for me, I thought you understood, I thought you loved me--”

“John--”

“I wish you’d died with Thomas!”

James goes silent and still, staring at John with wide eyes. After a moment, he whispers hoarsely, “John…” but John shakes his head.

“I wish you’d been killed in the crash with Thomas, and I wish I’d never met you.” John doesn’t give his boyfriend… well, ex- now, the chance to respond. He needs his oxy, and he needs it, like, an hour ago, so he needs to scrounge up some cash and find his dealer  _ now _ .

He barely notices the heavy cold rain as he rushes outside the apartment building. It barely makes a dent in the numbness swallowing him. He scrambles down the stairs to wave for a taxi, but he slips and falls partway down. He hits his head on the way down and everything goes black.

* * *

His leg and his head are throbbing. Scratch that, his entire body is throbbing, it’s just louder in his leg and head. It smells clean--too clean, and John makes a face, squinting one eye open to take a look at his surroundings. Everything is perfectly white and beige, and he feels his heart vacate his chest. He knows these surroundings well. He’s in the hospital.

“John?”

John opens his other eye to look at the speaker, who’s leaning over his bed, a concerned look written into his green eyes.

“Oh, god, you’re awake, thank fuck--”  
“The fuck’re you doin’ here?” John mumbles, barely believing his eyes. Why would James be here, after what John had said?

“You fell down the stairs and hit your head,” James explains, though it doesn’t actually explain anything. “You’re going through withdrawal, and your… well, your prosthetic cracked during the fall.”

John tastes vomit at the back of his throat and looks around quickly for something to throw up in. James seems to sense what John needs and holds up a bucket. John takes it gratefully and empties the contents of his stomach. James takes the bucket back when John’s done, setting it on the floor beside the bed.

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re here,” John rasps dryly, looking for some water. James hands him a paper cup.

“I followed you outside and found you in the sidewalk, bleeding profusely from your head. Your breathing was so shallow, I thought you were dead, John.”

John downs the whole cup of water, and James takes the cup, tossing it in the bin.

“Why the fuck did you follow me?”

James frowns. “I was worried.”

“I told you I wished you were dead,” John says, not looking James in the eye. “I told you I wished we’d never met.”

“That was the withdrawal talking,” James says, voice soothing. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

John is quiet, not willing to agree or disagree with that statement. His stump throbs like it knows it’s being ignored.

“My leg hurts,” he says softly.

“The fall wrenched your prosthetic off,” James says just as softly. “The stump is swollen. The doctor said it’ll take a few weeks before you can wear a prosthetic again.”

John brings his hands up, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “A few days in the hospital, a new prosthetic. How’re we gonna pay for all this?”

“I don’t know,” James admits. “You’re also going back to rehab. And probably PT.”

“I should’ve died,” John whispers. “It’d’ve been less of a burden.”

A strong, calloused hand suddenly grips his, and John looks up at James.

“Don’t you dare,” James says sternly. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Why are you here?” John asks, desperation seeping through his voice.

“Because I love you,” James says with a hard edge in his voice.

“We can’t do this,” John says, voice hitching. “We can’t pay for this.”

“Maybe not,” James says, fingers squeezing John’s hand. “But we don’t have a choice. We chose this path, now we’ve got to live with it.”

“You didn’t choose it,” John says, tears welling up in his eyes. “I dragged you into this.”

“And I’m choosing to stay by your side. We’ll figure it out,” James pushes. “I don’t know how, but we’ll figure it out.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John’s been out of rehab for a week before he overdoses on xanax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. There's more.

John’s been out of rehab for a week before he overdoses on xanax. James takes it in stride as best he can, but it’s exhausting. John’s still getting used to the new prosthetic, and rehab had been hard on both of them. James has been working extra shifts at his manager job at the gas station to try to cover some of the expenses, but this overdose sends him over the edge.

James calls John’s new sponsor, a lovely woman named Madi, and she hurries over to take him to a meeting. James bids them farewell and retreats to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face. He stares at his reflection in the mirror, noting the bags under his eyes and how his cheekbones seem to be more prominent than normal. It was  _ his _ xanax that John downed almost an entire bottle of and that basically made James an enabler, didn’t it? If they had the money, they’d invest in a safe so James could lock his medicine away, but they’re struggling to keep their heads above water as it is. He catches a glimpse of the overturned bottle on the counter and sinks to the floor, burying his face in his hands and sobbing.

He loses track of time and soon enough he hears the front door opening and Madi telling John to give her a call tomorrow. James rubs at his eyes furiously and scrambles to his feet, opening the bathroom door. Madi notices him over John’s shoulder and waves.

“Get some rest,” she says to John, and then bids him good night. John turns to walk inside the apartment, eyes fixed on the floor in front of him, shuffling over to the couch. James stand at the entrance to the hallway awkwardly, wanting to go to John but also not wanting to disturb him.

“You’re still up,” John says dully, pulling his knees up to his chest.

“I wanted to make sure you were all right,” James says. John nods, tucking his chin on his knees.

“How was the meeting?” James asks after a few moments, padding closer.

“Was fine,” John says. “What are you still doing here, James?”

James frowns at the sudden question. “What do you mean? I told you I wanted to make sure you were all--”

John shakes his head, his eyes fixed somewhere near the other end of the couch. “After everything I do, you just keep staying. I know I’m making your life miserable. You could be doing just fine on your own, so why are you still here?”

James blinks. “Because I love you.”

John snorts and turns his head away so James can’t see his expression.

“After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?” James asks, a hint of desperation in his voice. John suddenly turns to meet James’s gaze. His eyes are red and watery and there are dark bags under them.

“Look at me!” John cries hoarsely. “I’m a mess! A disaster. You’re not getting anything out of this relationship. What possible reason is there to love me?”

James wants to ask if John wants him to go, but he knows the answer can’t be relied on in this state. John said harsh things when he was high or in withdrawal. James learned not to take it seriously a long time ago.

“You realize those were my anxiety meds you took, right?” James says. “I’m a mess too. Maybe not in the same way, but I have a therapist just like any crazy person out there. And I don’t need to  _ get _ anything out of this relationship for it to be worth it. All I need is you. We didn’t sign a contract or anything. As for reasons to love you, I could take hours answering that question.”

John holds James’s gaze steadily, as if daring him to go ahead and made good on that promise. James sighs and moves to sit next to him on the couch.

“You’re not your addiction, John. You’re John Silver, who just happens to have an addiction. You’re John Silver, with beautiful hair and gorgeous eyes. You’re John Silver, with a kind heart and a head full of stories. You’re John Silver, with a passion for life I’ve yet to see matched, at least when you’re sober. I’m willing to work through a hell of a lot to get through shit if it means I get to spend my life with John Silver. You’re worth that to me.”

John’s looking at his feet now, and James can see tears trailing down his cheeks.

“Do you believe me?” he asks quietly. John shakes his head desperately.

“I want to,” he says. “But I can’t.”

James ignores the overwhelming ache in his chest to lift the corner of his lips up wryly. “Well, that’s something we need to work on then.”

“I’m sorry,” John sobs. “I’m so, so sorry.”

James places his hand on the back of John’s head and presses their foreheads together. He can feel John shaking with sobs, and James feels like joining him, but instead he just holds them close.

“I know you are, babe. I know you are.”


End file.
